Razorblade Kiss
by cherryvanillaaa
Summary: So, I was listening to 'Razorblade Kiss' by HIM, and this happened. FreddyxOC
1. Chapter 1

**So, I was listening to the song 'Razorblade Kiss' by HIM, and this happened.**

It was the creaking that woke her up out of a dreamless sleep, the sound coming from right next to where her head lay on the pillow. Her eyes popped open with a start, heart pounding hard in her chest.

No one was there.

Or, at least, no one that was allowing her to see them.

A presence in the back of her mind told her otherwise - someone was very much there; they didn't want her to know where they were just yet.

Fully awake now, eyes wide with fear, Rebecca quietly tried to swallow the lump of anxious energy that had coiled in her throat. She knew it was _him_ ; knew he was probably poised and ready to pounce at the slightest indication that she might try and run. Very, very slowly and carefully, she reached her hand out from under the blanket and moved it toward the lamp on the nightstand next to her bed.

Her fingers never got the chance to even touch the lamp before strong fingers grabbed her wrist and forced it down onto the mattress beside her head. She could hear his low chuckle even underneath the scream that ripped from her throat; it came before she had a chance to try and stop it. She continued to scream when another hot hand grabbed her other wrist for the same treatment. Only when she started to struggle did a weight press down on her back to keep her from escaping. Her claustrophobia was enabled as this position made it harder for her to breathe, and she ignored the warning pressure with another cry of terror, arching up off the bed in a vain attempt to buck him off of her.

"Aww, careful honey," came a deep, gravelly purr from behind her, "you're gonna hurt my feelings." The voice held only good humor in it - no aggravation. She would have been able to tell if he was pissed; it wasn't something he hid well, and from what she had seen, he had quite a temper.

The good humor, however, failed to calm her. More so because she didn't understand it. His anger she could've understood, after what she'd done. She had known he'd be coming for her sooner or later, after she'd helped prevent him from killing another victim. The victim being her younger cousin, and good friend. The kill would've strengthened Freddy exponentially - his powers would've been even stronger than they already were. The younger his victim, the more pure of heart they were, the more the kill would strengthen him. Plus, her cousin was found to have dreamwalker capabilities - something that could be a threat to Freddy the older she got. Right now, the girl was ten. No one else had believed the child when she'd told them of her nightmares about the burned man with razor fingers; they had all told her they were just bad dreams. Rebecca had known better. There had been too much terror in the child's eyes to have just been _dreams_.

Now she was back in that nightmare world with this man, whom she had helped defeat. Although right now, he didn't seem like he felt defeated in the least.

In an attempt to calm any possibility of aggression, she softly whimpered his name, her voice trembling along with her body, "Freddy... please don't hurt me," Her voice changed pitch the moment she felt his mouth graze the side of her neck. She almost, _almost_ had tears in her eyes. Her tormentor chuckled again at her words, and she went very still as his teeth ever so gently scraped against her jugular. It would be so easy for him to just bite down and take a chunk out of her neck, or even just leave a mark... Her breathing was heavy with fear, although she tried not to let it make her mobile underneath him. One wrong move and he could end her right here.

With a groan that sent a shiver up her spine, his long tongue lightly trailed up the prominent vein in her neck, tasting the sheen of sweat on her skin. His body shuddered behind her, his breath warming the left side of her neck. "Well, _fuck me_ ," Even lower now, his voice sounded like his vocal chords themselves had been set on fire, or like he'd gargled hot coals in his throat, "You really _do_ taste like sugar." His words made another cold chill race up her spine with frightening precision. _Sweet as sugar_ was what everyone always said about her. It was a phrase always associated with her. She didn't like him knowing details like that about her. At the same time though, there was heat pulsing between her legs that she didn't understand.

As much as she could, she used both hands placed flat on the mattress to push herself up, her back against the front of his body fully now. A glint of metal appeared next to her face on her right side, and she heard the telltale _shink_ of his finger knives beside her ear. " _Ah ah ah_ ,"

Rebecca gulped in fear. Now there was truly no escape. He was going to kill her, right here in her own bed. Her parents were going to find her in a mess of bloody sheets and guts, and God only knew what would happen with her soul. Probably be trapped in here for eternity with this crispy bastard. The thought made her irrational, her fear getting the better of her. She let out a loud, long scream, trying to break out of his hold by any means. Her struggling barely phased him - he just continued to hold her down. She could imagine the triumphant smirk on his face; he finally had her right where he wanted her. "You can scream all you want," That voice teased from behind her, "But _no one's gonna save you from me_."

" _No, Freddy, please don't_ ," she whimpered, her fate flashing before her eyes.

"C' _mon_ , Beck," He licked a line up the back of her left ear, "Where's all that _bravado_ from before?" _Beck_ was another thing only associated with her... although she couldn't remember where she'd heard it from.

Roughly, Freddy twisted a hand into her hair and wrenched her head back, causing a yelp from her. The noise seemed to excite him, and she now felt the swell of his perversion pressed against her backside as she lay flat on her stomach. He rocked his hips forward, grinding himself against her crotch, that voice appearing in her right eat now next to the razors, "You used to like that, gone soft on me kiddo?" She squeezed her eyes shut. _Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wa-_ "Nuh uh, you're stuck here with me for a while." There was a grin in his deviant voice, "I made sure you'd be good and tired so you'd sleep through the _whole_ night - can't have you wakin' up while we're having so much fun." This was punctuated by a rather wicked chuckle, which she could feel vibrating into her back through his chest. _Oh God_ , she thought. Was he going to kill her while he was raping her? Was he going to kill her and _then_ rape her?

Suddenly, loud, raucous laughter came from right by her head, to which she jerked in surprise. _What's so funny? What the hell is his problem?!_

"Baby, I'm not gonna kill you!" He sounded surprised, among his amusement, that she would even consider such a thing. She felt a pang of anger in her chest. When he was laying on her back, holding her facedown and clinking his razors next to her ear, how the hell was she to know what his intentions were? She didn't want him near her, especially not if he was going to laugh at her.

"Well, excuse _me_ all over the place," She grumbled, unable to hold her tongue. If she didn't watch it, he'd be the one holding her tongue after he'd severed it from her body, of course.

" _Mmmm_ ," His lustful groan from behind her shut her right up. His razorless hand closed over her left shoulder sensually and squeezed. "There's that fire."

Gulping, her lips moving with a mind of their own even though it would probably earn her reprimand, and she retorted in a squeak, "If you play with fire, you're sure to get burned." Adding the cherry on top of her death sentence, she murmured so quietly she could barely hear herself, "But you already know that..."

There was a pause, a moment of no movement or sound. _This is it,_ she thought, squeezing her eyes shut. _This is where he kills me. All because I can't keep my stupid mouth shut, oh my God..._

Stock still, she felt his chest press against her back, and the pressure of his chin on her left shoulder. His breath warmed the side of her face, and she squeezed her eyes shut once again. _Christ..._

Instead of the pain she had expected, low, rumbling laughter came from him. She waited for the imminent agony of razors digging into her skin, bracing herself for the suddenness of it.

"Can I just tell you..." Came his voice in her ear. _This is it, this is it, oh my God, please PLEASE-_ "How much I've missed you?" Her thoughts came screeching to a halt. ... _What_? Out loud, she tried to voice her confusion, but fear mixed with the pressure of his chest on her back was making it hard for her to breathe once again, let alone speak. "Don't worry," His razor fingers next to her right ear clinked, metal on metal. "I'll help you remember me."

His free hand suddenly plunged between her legs from behind, stopping her from saying whatever she'd been about to say and making her let out a strangled noise that she'd never made before. The fingers had snaked right past her panties, not even attempting finesse. His weight on her back still prevented her from going anywhere, and now she was frozen from sensation as well. Freddy nuzzled his face into her hair as his burnt, abraded fingers wormed into her warmth, and he let out a groan against the back of her head, " _Ohhh_ , as wet as ever..."

All coherent thought flew straight out of mind, and Rebecca remembered everything.


	2. Chapter 2

_She remembered everything._

She didn't have to say it out loud; Freddy knew. He could feel the memories rolling over her like a strong current, could see them flickering behind her eyes. It was a beautiful sensation, ne almost akin to the rush of an orgasm. Freddy shuddered deliciously; she remembered him now, and that was all that mattered. Fuck what the town's people tried to tell these younger kids about him (although they were a hundred percent correct, but that was besides the point). He was a sick man, and he knew it - had for a long time. It was an itch that got worse the older he got; the more he saw, the more he craved. The longer he was the way he was, the more twisted he became.

His lust was something he'd never been able to quell. Impossible to quench, he craved and craved and _craved_ , and would until the supposed end of his days. Which wouldn't be for a very long time, if how long he'd been going now was any indication.

Freddy felt Rebecca's memory settle on a moment he'd been particularly fond of, his hips jerking against her ass in response to what the thought of it did to him mentally. God, it was sick, and so fucking _hot._

Probably the exact moment that had started the whole affair, Freddy closed his eyes and reveled in her vision.

He'd been in the classroom at the preschool, jerking off. Not his smartest move by far; anyone could've walked in on him. But the urge was too strong to ignore: _Do it there, by the finger paintings hanging on the wall, maybe you can splatter your own paint on the wall too, heh..._ So he dropped his pants and started whacking it. He was almost there when a little voice came from behind him. "Mister Freddy?"

 _That_ voice. He stilled completely at the unexpected interruption. That voice froze him in his tracks. She always had an effect on him. He wasn't quite sure what to do next; he was breathing heavily and his swollen dick was in his hand, about to pop. "Yeah, babe?" His own voice was labored and raspy, even huskier now that her presence had been made known.

"What are you doing?" she'd asked, and God help him he almost blew his load right there; her voice was so innocent and curious.

"I'm...playing a game." ... It wasn't entirely a lie.

As he'd known it would, that voice had grown even more curious, "What kind of game?"

Freddy's eyes had slid closed, a grin on his face as the blood started pumping even more freely now. "A grown-up game."

Silence for a moment, and then came the question again, "But what _kind_ of game?" More insistent this time.

"I dunno, Beck, this is probably gonna be too hard for you to understand..." Double meaning completely intentional, though she had no idea what the innuendo was. He was so evil; even now he nearly cackled at his ingenious response.

"No it won't, I can do it!" Her little voice verged on a whine.

"Mmm, maybe if you were a little older. You might get scared..."

"I won't!" She was so enthusiastic; such spunk even at such a young age. "I promise I won't! You know me Mister Freddy, I'm _fearless_!"

Freddy was grinning so hard his face hurt, hand starting to pump at his dick once again. He knew she wouldn't; she trusted him. That's why she was his favorite. "That you are, baby girl,"

That had just been the start. He could see more blurred memories that she was experiencing all at once. He was genuinely surprised she'd forgotten abut him. Not that she had done so purposefully. His chest tightened at the thought. They'd taken her away from him. Put her in therapy, drugged her up, told her he was a bad man. _Motherfuckers didn't know what they were talking about._ She'd wanted it, she'd loved it, she'd loved _him._

She was at the core of his depravity, and he didn't want it any other way. Even now, he wouldn't change a thing. It had taken him a while, but he'd finally found her again. Now nobody could stop him. They'd already killed him once, they couldn't do it again. That was one of the best parts about being dead - the other being that he could visit people at their weakest moments and scare the shit out of them. And then, there was _this._

Rebecca gasped beneath him as he removed his fingers from her heat, and she turned her head to look back at him just as he raised his fingers to his mouth. Whatever she'd been about to say died in her throat when she saw him lick her juices off of his burnt digits. When he was done, he pulled his fingers from his lips with a pop, then gave her a smirk. "Remember me now?"

Unable to say anything, she only nodded. He could still see the conflict in her gaze, could feel how tense she had turned once again. If he was being honest, he couldn't blame her. People had been telling her lies about him. Sending her to counseling to help her 'talk about her experience', forcing her to choke down pills that would make her forget. The only way she knew him right now was from the dam of memories that had come spilling through her mind - they had taken the feelings of the experiences away from her.

He gave her a grin, not unkind, "Still not convinced, huh?" Those eyes settled on his own, and she sucked in her lips like she didn't know quite how to answer. She didn't even have to say anything; he could see the dilemma behind her gaze, could hear the thoughts dueling in her mind. Freddy gently but swiftly flipped her onto her back, lowering himself so he was poised over her body, his chest brushing hers. He inhaled her scent deeply, feeling it prick at his senses, his memory. It was the smell of her that had alerted him to the fact that it was her; that he'd found her once again.

Freddy inhaled her scent deeply, feeling it prick at his senses, his memory. It was the smell of her that had alerted him that it was her; that he'd found her once again. He always knew he'd find her; whether he had been alive still or six feet underneath the rubble of the old factory he'd been murdered in. One way or another, he was always determined to get back to her.

And now that he had her again, he was even more determined to make her remember. This was all working out _perfectly._

"Krueger," she murmured, confusion mixed with realization mixed with that same damn apprehension in those baby blues, "You... you..."

"Me, me," he repeated with a smirk, "Me, indeed, babe. Didja miss me as much as I missed you?" Giddiness that he never felt when it wasn't accompanied by bloodshed took him by the balls and _squeezed._ Fred Krueger was not a sentimental man, nor would he ever be described as giddy. He felt both in this moment. She'd always done the damndest things to him without even trying.

When she didn't react visibly, he tilted his head to one side and _hmm'd_ , "What can I do that's gonna convince you, honey? Do I gotta get on my knees and beg?"

Get on his knees indeed he did, only he leapt off the bed and onto the floor to kneel, and he grabbed her ankles and tugged her legs over his shoulders. Her gasp sounded good - he could get off on that. Hell, he could get off just being within her presence; _smelling_ her like a fucking bloodhound would've done the trick. His right hand that had the knives on the fingers sliced her panties off easily - she wouldn't be needing those, like, ever again. Not in his world. Before she could murmur his name, ask what he was doing, try to come up with excuses as to why this wasn't a good idea, he did what he'd dreamt about doing for a long time; he dove headfirst into that sweet pussy and devoured it like she was the sweetest tasting thing to ever grace his lips.

In truth, she actually was.

She cried out at the sensation, a sharp arch bending her spine as her chest rose to the ceiling. She looked like a demon was being exorcised from her body; Freddy knew this demon all to well. The _lust_ demon could be a real _bitch_ when it wanted to be. He was simply bringing forth that demon; charming the snake; riling the beast. Pouring kerosene on the fire... naah, he didn't like that analogy. Too shifty. Whatever the choice of words, he was owning her right now. He was tasting her core - she still tasted the same as he remembered. Sweet as sugar indeed.

His eyes opened to see her hands fisting in the sheets on either side of her hips, and there was no denying her enjoyment now. She may have tried to hide it from him before, but now she was lost in sensation. There was no shoving that under the rug. If he was feeling literal, he could say _he_ was actually the one shoving something under the rug... _God_ , he was a sick man. Tongue pulling out of her womanhood, he spoke against the inside of her thigh, his deep voice even more gravelly the quieter he spoke, "How ya doin', sweetheart? Bringin' back any memories?" He heard her try to say something, but it only came out as a whimper, though he wasn't even doing anything to her at the moment. He chuckled darkly, " _I'll take that as a yes_." And he resumed what he was doing, feasting on her flesh, her womanly center. Her noises became more pronounced now, easier to distinguish as noises of pleasure rather than ones of fear or pain. He knew what he was doing didn't hurt one fucking bit - there was no possible way his administrations didn't feel like the best damn thing she'd ever experienced. Her pleasure made him feel pleasure; they were linked in his world.

Just as she was about to come, he stopped, cold turkey. He pulled back away, resting his chin on one of her thighs and looking at her face expectantly. She let out a noise of frustration at his sudden stop, her eyes opening to stare down her body at him. Sweat had gathered on her face, giving her an ethereal shimmer, and her hair was a mess from her body writhing around on the mattress. She looked like an angel. Freddy didn't say anything at the moment; if he was being honest, he was far too distracted studying her face, her body, feeling the thoughts that were racing through her mind.

Then, one clear thought stood out among all the rest, and he felt it at the same time that she spoke: "I do remember."

 **Sorryyyyyy (not sorry)**


	3. Chapter 3

"I do remember."

Those three words sealed her fate, as did the slew of new memories that had preceded them. New memories sounded like the contradiction of the ages, but then again, nothing about this situation was exactly normal.

Basically, she had just found out that she'd been in a mutual sexual relationship with a forty-something year old man when she was about six years old. What. The fuck. No words could even begin to describe the amount of holy moly she was feeling at the moment. It was sick. She couldn't help but feel, though, that it must have been really good in order for her to not tell anyone. Really good, like how it felt right now.

Freddy closed his eyes and inhaled deeply through his mouth, "You remember everything," He rose from his perch by the side of the bed, removing her legs from his shoulders gently, "You remember me."

She gulped at the intensity of the lust in his eyes. Now that he'd made her remember, he was not about to stop. Oh, God. She felt an entirely different kind of anticipation. She was both scared and excited.

"Whaddya say we-" Freddy once again crawled up her body, slack on top of the mattress, "-make this reunion a special one?"

Rebecca barely had time to register his words before she was abruptly flipped over onto her stomach underneath him, some unknown force moving her against her will. She had time to take one breath before her arms suddenly shot out in front of her like she was Superman flying to someone's rescue. Only she couldn't retract them - it was like her wrists were bound but there was nothing actually holding her there. God damn these mind games. "Freddy..."

"Calm down, honey, you're gonna like this, I promise," Both of his hands closed over her shoulders once again, kneading rhythmically. The razors on his gloved hand cut into the bedsheets with each movement of his fingers. "You trust Mister Freddy, don'cha Beck? You know Mister Freddy wouldn't hurt you..."

This was wrong. This was so wrong. Everything about this was wrong. And yet, she couldn't bring herself to tell him to stop; not after what she'd seen from the past, what she'd experienced when the damn of memories broke open. And the little voice in the back of her mind saying What will it be like? Will it be as good as you remember? Curiosity may indeed kill the cat this time.

The hands on her shoulders pressed her harder into the mattress, and she felt something thick and hard prod at her entrance. Oh, oh my, this is it, this is-

Suddenly there was a rush of air, and she was jolted into what seemed like another dimension. Gasping for air, looking around wildly, she realized she was still in her room, facedown on her mattress with her arms and legs spread wide. Only Freddy wasn't there. She must have woken up.

Disappointment hit her like a freight train - it was just getting interesting.

Rebecca wondered if it was, in fact, just a dream.

She pushed herself up off the mattress, reaching for the light switch on her bedside lamp. Squinting as the light illuminated the room, her fingers felt around on the sheet on top of her mattress. She was just about to give up with a sigh when she felt it -holes in the fabric. Pulling them apart, inspecting them further, she saw that they were indeed made with a very sharp blade. The cuts were too precise and clean to have been made by anything else, including her nails. Proof? But she still wasn't fully convinced.

The next thing she did was search for her panties, which she was not wearing. If it had all just been a dream, they would be somewhere within the vicinity. Upon searching everywhere, though - high and low - they were nowhere to be found. This has to be proof.

There was one more thing she could do. One more thing she had to check. Only then would she be certain.

Quietly so as not to wake anyone else in the house, she opened her bedroom door and padded out into the dark hall towards the bathroom. Her bare feet quietly padded down the hall, barely making any noise on the wooden floor. Once she reached the dark room, she slipped inside and shut the door before turning on the light. Once she was safely inside, she stripped completely bare, tossing her remaining clothes onto the floor behind her.

What she saw shocked her into belief. There was no doubt in her mind now - it hadn't been just a dream.

Her skin was covered with bite marks, hickeys, bruises in the shapes of fingers, and, of course, claw marks.

Oh, my God.

Without warning, the mirror rippled like disturbed water, her image becoming slightly distorted before settling back. What...?

She stared in awe at her reflection leaned towards her, bracing 'her' arms on the sink before the mirror. Her reflection smirked at her, radiating confidence from 'her' eyes. All Rebecca could do was stare at her naked self before her, moving when she wasn't.

"You'd better start running, pretty one," Her reflection winked at her - the voice was hers, only more sultry, more purposeful. "He'll give you a ten second head-start."

Rebecca stood stock still for a moment, wondering if this was actually happening. When her reflection started counting down from ten, she turned and bolted out the door. Her house was no longer her house, but a boiler room, hot and steamy and dark. A thrill coursed through her as she searched for a hiding spot; though she knew that no matter where she hid, he would find her. That was just how the game worked. She wasn't sure how ready she was to play in his twisted ways, naked and damp in the humid air. She was sure, however, that he would help her to be ready.

She could always trust Mister Freddy, after all.

 **Well**

 **this was an interesting ride**

 ***heckles***

 **i hope everyone enjoyed, sorry my perverted tendencies came out from their hidden shadows**


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